Fangsy-Hold On-Zootopia at Large
by Gerard Cypriako
Summary: Finnick sees his game, his stable life, take a turn for the worse after being separated temporarily from his most valuable possession. Lots of monologuing in this storyline.
1. Prelude (Hold On)

It's here! It's finally here! After beginning in February, this story has begun oficially at last. Let's see.  
I do not own Zootopia. Fortunately. It would have flopped, otherwise. Hard. If I did, what I'd make of it would be really boring for the rest of the world. No, thanks.  
I want to thank Rich, Byron, Jared and other creative heads of the story for making this fic so easy to make. Having the animals not be colourblind ("You want the red or the blue, pal?") was very helpful. I mean, they wouldn't see strictly in grey, but rather a more dim version of the colours we see. Moving on... Also, just having names in Judy's ipod such as Guns N' Rodents, Fleetwood Yak, Hyena Gomez, Kanine West...that just validated something I wanted to happen: animal counterparts of real celebrities. So thank you for that, too. Other conviniences that don't agree with logic that much (elephants wouldn't stand up in two legs without dying in real life, so evolution; cookies and cream ice cream and popsicles...How does Gideon bake? Does he use eggs? From where? I would assume food in the Zootopia universe is manipulated so they can be safely consumed by animals.) count in the stuff I'm grateful for.  
Now, as you may have noticed, the title is split in three. That means this fanfic is constituted of three stories—but which is which? 'Zootopia At Large' is Finnick's.  
The dynamic I'll follow to write each story will be this one: all three of them will take turns. The order may not always be the same, as they will be told chronologically. That's why I rearranged the chapters: this one needed to be the first. And Finnick's story will be the only one to be narrated in first person. Whenever the narration is traditional, you're reading a different story. I'll try to keep each story separated from the others in chapters to avoid confusion, but there's one point so far where two stories converge.  
Hopefully, this is all the explaining I have to do outside the fic for you to understand everything. I trust you. You is kind, you is smart, you is important. I'll make sure to do my part correctly. So here's where I sod off.  
Oh! And if you read words in itallics, those are licensed song lyrics. If you read bold words, those are original and fictional lyrics. If you read itallic bold words, those are licensed songs translated from another language by me. I'll post a list of all the songs featured on a chapter at the very end of the fanfic.  
And one more thing: if you want additional context to draw your own conclusions from about future chapters of this very fanfic, go to Spotify and check the official Zootopia profile. They have custom playlists for Zootopia characters. A lot of them are dropped off the platform to later be added again, such as Mr. Big's, Bellwether's and Flash's. The one they always have is Judy's. Nick's playlist is also inconsistently dropped, and then re-uploaded. There's even a Flash Audio Lines profile.  
I'm going to go. Good luck.

* * *

 ** _Prelude_**

At the highschool classroom the rhinocerous Raphael Schmidt taught at 9 o' clock every work day, when he was with the 10th grade, entirely constitued by hares, the teacher's favorite student was about to be roll called.

"Hailey Lamboukas?"

"Coming!"

"Your turn for your presentation is today. Go ahead." he drawled, looking down. Hailey had already gotten to the rhino's desk to deposit her computer on it to begin her presentation by the time he had finished his sentence.

As she was attempting to open a file titled 'Meiosis. pptx ', two classmates were helping her set her exposition up, plugging the classroom's HDTV to her laptop; the moment the HDMI cable was in, the HDTV's screen revealed Hailey's wallpaper to the class: a picture of five badgers wearing matching pitch-black suits, smiling at the camera. All of them in different poses, each one holding the subsequent one's shoulder.

The teacher turned his head at the television.

"Who are they, may I ask?" he looked at Hailey with certain intrigue.

"Those are my boyfriends, Mr. Schmidt." the student replied proudly before giggling.

"Interesting. Well, proceed."

* * *

'Property of Aron Malicki'

'Property of Rikard Agarici'

'Property of Roland Tarashenko. Depraved, demented, destroyer, deranged, degenerate, defiant, dented, delicious.'

'Property of VIDAR-BASTIAN Costin'

'Property of Waldemar Aaker'

Five purple cases were passed around and layed down when the five badgers had settled on their seats aboard a train destined to arrive at Zootopia.

"I don't know why you thought the ride would be exciting. It's not even ten minutes." Vidar told Waldemar.

"It's not even five." Waldemar corrected.

...

Suddenly, eyes were set on the group of mustelids dressed up in bright purple suits. Passengers parallel to them could appreciate that they were identical in appearance, and the only way to differentiate them without listening to their voices was paying attention to their eyes: with time, as badgers abandonded the ground to live in homes above it, their eyes became accustomed to the sun's prescence, making them better at resisting its light. They also got a little bigger, allowing the entire iris to show in each one.

Still, there were two pairs of hazel irises, and two of brown ones in this situation. Only the green one stood out. About everything else, other riders suspected they tried to, or even agreed to maintain one archetypical look.

Despite being of different ages, they were roughly of the same height. Black ears, paws and fingerclaws, lips and noses.

It also seemed as if they all had found a way to straighten their hair artificially: not a single strand of fur was out of place on their heads- counting their necks, too-. Gel, probably.

As the train began running on its rails, a fifth of the badger agroupation noticed an armadillo carrying a purse, hastening to sit right beside him.

He smiled without baring his teeth; that lady was panting, but simultaneously trying to breathe in, because she could not believe she was sharing a spot with him, whom she hoped with all of her impetus to meet one day. It finally happened.

"Ro-Roland!" the armoured woman managed to blurt out, to then cover her grinning mouth before she made a progress to a hyperventilation stage.

The badger answered to his name and replied with a salute of estimation:

"Hi."

He stretched out his rigth paw to her, and as much as she appreciated that he was being kind, she went for something more adventurous.

"May I hug you?"

"Aw, you may."

The little exchange ended soon, and Roland told the other four of his kind:

"Say hi, guys."

Rikard, Vidar and Waldemar waved paws at the armadillo, offering warm smiles. Aron was apparently asleep, with his head tilted back, his back curved, and his mouth ajar.

Unconvicing, thought the lady, but if she had one of the five for an entire train ride to herself, she better made the most out of every moment next to him. Where to begin?

"Can I take a picture with you?"

"Can I take one, too?" Roland proposed as he took out his cell phone, his hazel eyes on her.

"Oh, but would you please not post it on the...?"

"No, no. I keep them private on an "Only Me" secured album on Furbook. Smile!"

...

"Are all those cases yours?" she asked Roland about the ones kept underneath their seats. After being told that they were, she said:

"Why do you have four guitars?"

"One, the smallest, is for Walder's drumsticks."

"No, I get that, but what about the four guitars?"

"It's mine, Rikard's, and Vid's bass. The last one is Aron's, but it's empty."

"Really? Nothing is inside? Like books or clothes?"

"His voice." Roland replied, grinning.

The armadillo lady thought of such decision as very impractical; even if it was for stylistic purposes, carrying something as big around for nothing should be tiring. But if it was a setup for a punchline, that meant she could just nod as she looked at him to convey that she got it.

"And how's life in Meadowlands?"

"It's really good, actually! I'm going to miss it now that we move to..."

...

In the seat row, the armadillo lady was first, and next to her was Roland. After him were Vidar, Waldemar, Rikard and snoozing Aron.

Vidar typed into his phone something for Waldemar. The latter took his own phone out discreetly, read what was sent to him in a flash, and texted back.

Rikard, of hazel eyes, noticed Aron couldn't stay still for thirty seconds before assuming a new uncomfortable position, careful of not invading the space of the grizzly bear that sat by his right.

He wasn't resting.

If Roland kept his fan entertained, Rikard could get Aron out of his eye-shut isolation and speak with him privately. No time to lose, then.

He called Aron by name loudly enough to not disturb or attract attention from other mammals. The latter finally revealed his chocolate eyes to Rikard as he turned to him, still sprawled in his seat.

"Do you think they will lift the ban?" Aron's voice denoted fatigue.

"No."

"Yeah, but, eventually."

"Of course. It's only one place, besides." Rikard put a fingerclaw up. "You've got right everywhere else."

"It's more because I'll have to miss two shows," Aron's disenchantment grew. "and Jairome will keep part of the lettuce we'll make."

"But it's still Jairome Way who's covering you."

"Sure. Just promise you'll record me something, please."

"Sorry, _carnal_. You'll have to wait until you're let in again, or you'll have to ask them yourself if that's what you really want."

...

"Is Aron okay?" the armadillo lady inquired Roland.

"Why?"

"I see him droopy."

"He hasn't been well lately. To be fair, I haven't been, either."

"Really? You? What's happened?"

"I've been facing lots of stomach problems." Roland elucidated. "They have caused me a lot of pain, and I've had to cut several things from my diet. I had studies test me, and it all turned to be an internal infection, and while I'm being treated, fish seems to do the trick. Also quinoa. And nuts."

"Rolly's the one who's had it hard. I'm now just regre-" Aron began.

"Ew. Quit calling me 'Rolly'."

Aron let out a laugh that quickly died and proceeded:

"I'm just now regretting something. You probably know..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. It showed." the armadillo shrugged, now feeling her presence trascending and at the same time going down a hierarchy as she was being reached out by another band member. She was close to becoming speechless.

Aron shrugged in response and smiled in a way that looked more melancholic than amused. Holding the smile, he took a breath to let out his favorite lament in song form.

" **Everything tumbled down**..."

" **INSIDE OF ME! IN-SIDE-OF-ME**!" his four bandmates filled the air with shrieks, in and out of tune; then, they all shared a laugh. The armadillo even had some of that before other passengers demanded they piped down.

 _"_ **My dreams have come and gone,** _"_ Vidar continued as Aron had sung initially: calm and soft. " ** _And now they burn, and now they burn..._**

 ** _Look at my body_**

 ** _How it collapses_**

 _ **Listen to my dying heart as it stops-it's what youuuuuUu dooooo...** "_

* * *

The echidna keeper with the dead face from the gatehouse gave Waldemar the keys of what was already their house. That orange, two-stories home among sixteen others from that narrow housing estate was patiently waiting for them. Hidden in the depths of Savanna Central.

The previous owners were an expecting rhino couple whom were trying to sell the house before they bought another and moved.

Waldemar unlocked the door, and the five of them could step in at once.

...

There was no furniture inside. At least in the first floor, which was totally viewable from the entrance: on width, the first floor was a whole room separated in two by an intangible—but clear—division.

On the left, a kitchen that included a sink and a stove. When they were just considering options, they bumped into the house when it had a dinner table in the kitchen.

Looking North, a corridor to the stairs that turned to the right and went to the second storey.

On the right, what was left of the living room.

"It looks even bigger when it's empty!" Rikard let out in awe.

They had been to the house twice before, and ever since, they had been planning the way they would arrange the table, the TV, the fridge...That was not a moment to get imaginative anymore. It had all been already set up.

Everyone tossed their backpacks and instruments in the emptyness of the living room.

"It really feels good." Vidar mumbled.

Roland rushed to the bathroom located in the left-hand wall of the corridor.

"Yo!..it's just as big as I remember." he yelled to his friends, peeking at the toilet inside. "Fuckin' Olympic pool."

Rikard walked into the bathroom to check it himself. Roland told him:

"I bet we all fit in one of these."

The badgers also knew beforehand that the size of the toilets, wash basins and showers would be an inconvinience they would have to fix themselves, but that circumstance was being saved for last.

...

Immediately after, the five mustelids gathered in the soon-to-be living room.

"So, it's 1:50. I'm gonna go get a Costco membership and buy some shit." Roland announced.

Waldemar's nose reacted for him, dumbfounded. Then, his mouth asked:

"Why is tha—?"

"He cannot eat a lot of things, still." Aron reminded him.

"Exactly! I'm gonna cook today." Roland grinned proudly.

"Believe me," Rikard told Vidar and Waldemar in response to their dubious faces. "I frequently ate at his house in high school, and every time, he was the one who cooked. Really neat."

The opposite two seemed relieved that Roland at least had one reference to back up his reliability.

"I'm gonna do red polgy. It will be the scene stealer." Roland promised, excited. "It will come with a rice bed and an olive and celery salad, but what I want you to care about is the polgy."

Rikard went to take out something out of his backpack.

Roland spoke again:

"Oh! And I'm taking Walder with me, because we're getting our gym IDs today. So we'll be back at like..."

"Three? 3:30?" Aron guessed. Roland nodded.

"Meanwhile, we will...wait, what are you buying at Costco?" Rikard asked Waldemar.

"The food, I think. But also the TV and the fridge. The salad, the polg-"

"Not the fish." Roland cut Waldemar off. "You don't find that in Costco. We'll go to the fish market of last time. In Tundratown. It's a small business. It's truly good shit."

Walder raised his brows:

"Oh. Okay."

"So, Aron, Vid and me we'll order the table, the support of the TV, and whatever furniture we may need." Rikard declared.

Vidar, mostly silent and sleepy, suddenly shook his head after noticing what Rikard had pulled out of his backpack:

"Erm, what's up with those glasses?"

Rikard look at him in the eyes and answered:

"I lost my contacts in the hotel in Bunnyburrows. I bought these there, too."

"All right."

Roland clapped and proclaimed as he walked to the door:

"Well, we better be going now, Walder!"

"But you'll go out like that?" Rikard asked him. "I mean...It's a buring hell outside. You won't change?"

They were all wearing their suits, but each had five combinations of clothes for the following days inside their backpacks.

"Nah." said Roland. "See ya soon, Aron, Rikard. Goodbye, Bass-Face."

...

"Do we call Rusu to order furniture?"

"Yeah, and we should call Royal Prestige so Roland can cook."

Shortly after two badgers had left, Aron and Rikard were discussing the errands that were most urgent for that day.

"We should get a couch." one of them commented, as they both turned to Vidar-Bastian, whom had taken out a tiny Marshall amplifier he carried safely inside his guitar case and plugged it to his bass. He was on the floor, playing riffs from their own songs, bored out of his mind.

"African penis, Asian penis...Caucasian penis." he recited, out of boredom.

Rikard called him. "Having fun, Vid?"

Vidar-Bastian returned him a look that communicated he had been caught off-guard.

"Eh?"

"You've worked very hard already, after all..."

"If you want help, you can ask me. You haven't asked for any..."

"No, no, whatever." Rikard then noticed something out of its place. "That's not my amplifier, right, Bas? Vid...Vid! Is that my amplifier?" The badger with glasses walked in the bassist's direction. Vidar laughed mischevously as he unplugged his instrument.

"No, Rikard. Those are lies from the government."

Aron, however, stuck to the duty, and let his bandmates solve their little conflict (which was followed by Vidar running to the second floor and Rikard telling him from downstairs to come down, to 'come on', and 'give it back'.)

"Yeah, hi. I'm Aron Malicki, I'm not a Direct Selling associate, and this is the first time I'm doing this, but I would like to order from your internet catalogue."

...

And just like that, the night fell. So far, they had acquired a a wooden dinner table, a sofa, a fridge, a television, food supplies for a day, utensils, dishes, lightbulbs, two Hybrid Fitness ID's, a pottery set, and they were yet to replace the kitchen sink, pay for the bathrooms to be remade, buy a new, smaller stove, beds, new clothes, and a washing machine. It was 8 o' clock; by 6, Waldemar's drum kit arrived at their door, and by 7, they recieved a Royal Prestige visit. The polgy had turned out fantastic. And at night, Savanna Central's temperature became cold enough. It really was a time to enjoy making a group decision.

* * *

 _JackalOnline . com_

 _WASPS_ ARRIVE AT ZOOTOPIA TO STAY

15:03

April 8th, 2016

by Janet Syk

 **Some months ago, we shared an interview with rhythm guitarist Roland Tarashenko Meles and lead vocalist Aron Malicki Stelles from the band WASPS ( _link here_ ) in which they talked about experiences from half of their A Hat Full Of Rain Tour and that they were especially looking forward to coming to Zootopia this year. **

**The last two concerts of their tour will take place here, both on the Sable Doré Arena, the biggest of Sahara Square, but after that, they will carry on with their lives as Zootopian citizens.**

 **You just read it. They will be living here with us, and be added to the list of media personalities with a Zootopian residence.**

 **Rescuing an excerpt from said interview, here's what Aron had to say about living where anyone can be anything:**

AM-"Before we renew our contracts or whatever the plan is, we want to take a break. The guys want to study at the Metropolitan University of Zootopia, and I want to get some of my things straight. Maybe get a job, and work on new music as a hobby. Obviously, we'll write the third album in the meantime, but three years is more than enough."

After that, he revealed the five would be sharing a household, and Roland provided details on that:

RT-"Last time we came to Zootopia, we learned so much about it in one week that...we were sold, really. We knew we wanted to live here after the fourth day. We began searching for a house on a residential zone we were told about...and wouldn't you imagine that we actually found one!"

AM-"It's convinient as well, since Rikard's girlfriend is moving [to Zootopia] nearby, so who knows? He might leave us and live with her."

 **At 12:15, it was reported today that the garage and alternative rock quintet were spot at Savanna Central descending from a Central Station train that came from Bunnyborrows. Unlike the last time they stepped paws in the city back in 2015, they were not accompanied by personal security, friends or anybody who isn't in the band's line-up. They also weren't dragging suitcases; now, they were lugging purple backpacks, and they carried their instruments with them.**

 **(WASPS pictured above. Those backpacks don't seem to have much in them.)**

* * *

 _JackalOnline . com_

Aron Malicki Reported Banned From Sable Dorée Arena

16:47

December 10th, 2015

by Janet Syk

 **Today, lead vocalist of the garage and alternative rock outfit WASPS Aron Malicki has tweeted that an e-mail was sent to him this morning from the heads of the Sable Dorée Arena telling him that he's not allowed into the building for "an undefined period of time".**

 **Last night during WASPS' sold out concert at the Sable Dorée Arena,** **after playing the entirety of their A Hat Full Of Rain album they are promoting with its eponymous tour, frontman** **Aron performed a very toned-down and mellow ten song set of covers while holding a pineapple. As his bandmates backed him up, the hyperactive singer stood still, hugging the approximately three-kilogram fruit—which might weigh 1/4 of his body weight, being even half as big as him—and ocassionally swinging it around. When the band went silent after playing the last song of the evening and the audience clamoured and applauded, Aron inadvertedly tossed the pineapple at the crowd.**

 **The pineapple didn't go too far, but it landed in the face of a bear from the first row, who could have been hit in the snout if he had not covered his face and catched the item.**

 **As specified by Malicki in a chain of tweets, throwing the pineapple and almost injuring someone was ultimately the cause of the Sable Dorée Arena's decision to his prohibition, as well as apperently sneaking the pineapple into the building.**

 _at_ AronMalicki

11:53

I can't go to SDA in Zootopia for an undefined period of time. It's my fault. I was notified with this.

[photo]

...

 **This afternoon, we went to the SDArena to learn more about this affair.** **Everyone in the Arena's maintenance team we could find said they didn't see the European badger with it at any moment before the show.**

 **However, Bette Hara, the concert's sound engineer, recalls perfectly Aron pulling the pineapple out of a guitar case during the gig: the same case she saw him carry around when they arrived three hours before the show.**

 **We would like to assure that bringing fruit into the SDA's grounds is not forbidden, as we were told by the administrative manager of the Arena, Rita Capy, as it is in fact sold inside the builiding, but how Aron went in with it, without anyone but himself knowing so, is what culminated in his penalty.**

 **So far, no other members of the quintet have said anything on the subject, so Aron confirming this version of the story is all the evidence made out of this, yet.**

 **The group still has two dates of their tour scheduled at the SDA; in fact, they will be the last of their tour, which will finish next April. And, if you had any doubts, none of the other WASPS were not allowed to perform there like Aron was, and according to the latter, they will still give those shows nevertheless.**

 _at_ AronMalicki

12:07

We won't cancel our shows in April. We'll find someone to take my place

...

 _at_ AronMalicki

12:08

The guys deserve more time in the spotlight, too.

It will probably serve me good for touring on my own with _at_ VictimsOfABrownie.

...

 **The bear who was almost hit with Aron's pineapple identified himself on Twitter. He clarified his state to the badger himself, saying he's "fine", and that he wasn't harmed. He claimed to also be 'shocked' that Malicki would tell him that his manager was very glad he had not pressed any charges against the singer or the band.**

Aron Malicki retweeted

 _at_ KemBamu_42

13:13

 _atAronMalicki_ Sorry too hear you're banned. Im fine, its all cool

...

 _at_ AronMalicki

13:14

 _atKemBamu_42 _ My manager had a word with me. She's glad you haven't decided to press charges. Again, deeply sorry.

...

Aron Malicki retweeted

 _at_ KemBamu_42

13:50

 _atAronMalicki_ That makes me think that everything is even more overblown holy shit. That's shocking

...

 **And what did Malicki had to say for himself about the pineapple stunt?**

 _at_ AronMalicki

12:17

I am sorry for almost hurting someone with a pineapple. I broke rules trying to have fun, and my impulsive instincts got the best of me

...

 _at_ AronMalicki

12:19

As someone who's always said that my ADHD is no excuse for no self-control, I feel this is embarrassing. I won't do something like it again.

...

 **Since they first hit the mainstream rock scene with matching suits and a five-stringed bass in 2013, garage and alternative rock outfit WASPS have admitted to be a very image-oriented group. Aron explained it in the first interview the band granted RFI 7.20 FM:** **"Around seventy and seventy-five percent of the information we get from the world, we get it through our eyes."**

 **For years, they have been consistent on feeding the public eye vibrant and energy-charged live shows, which are said to be a persistent feeling and memory that lasts for months, long after the experience is undergone. Their more recent success may be due to the two songs in their catalogue that have made it into the Hot 100, but their popularity has been cultivated by conversations that do not concern their music at all: as of now, Aron being the eldest band member at age 24 and Vidar-Bastian the youngest, at age 18; their matching attires, which are usually black, white or purple; how, back in 2012, it was wildly rumoured that they were related, based on how similar they all look, which prompted members Rikard Agarici, Vidar Costin and Waldemar Aaker to drop their surname Meles off their stage names and replace it.**

 **Their shows also start several conversations: i.e. in WASPS' earlier phase, frequent concert goers would notice that lead guitarist Rikard would perform with his shirt and coat off during the last song of their sets. The act has become a tradition that warns fans when are the shows about to finish—whenever Rikard takes his shirt off. Some of their on-stage antics have even made them slightly infamous, like the time they gave a performance at their native Meadowlands on an arena packed with wolves and, by the end of it, they began howling to provoke a major howl disarray past 11 pm. , the time the parking lot had given their crew's trailer; or that other time, when they played at Wild Times and gave their audience a thirty-minute break to relax, settle down and buy snacks, but made most of them stay anyway when Waldemar pulled out an electric razor and asked them if they wanted to see him shave Vidar's head entirely. The whole break was spent on that, and Vidar ended up with skin showing everywhere in his face and nape, except for some space around his eyes. For the consecutive weeks, the bass player was spot holding an umbrella over his unprotected head in public.**

 **For this, and so much more, they were dubbed in 2014 by Turnips webzine 'The Best Band To See Live', which granted them even more popularity. It's their enourmous stage presence what has made them one of the trendiest bands of the 2010's.**

 **But it was yesterday when all we've brought up about their stage quality may have gone too far.**


	2. Finnicky Intro (ZAL)

Here's a little ice-breaker before I tell you this story. It's an anecdote I tell other animals whenever I'm asked about my livelyhood.

For some time, probably two or three years ago, I was moving around the northern corner of Downtown very often, and I just went up and down the streets there, and usually walked past this bar (it was, like, a little establishment) and I always looked up to the logo they put on top of its roof, a circular logo. Every time I went by, I caught a glimpse of it, and just because I couldn't ignore it.

It was terrible. I wouldn't be able to go out in life with animals knowing I drew it, if I was the one responsible for that disgrace.

I assume whoever designed it was a Misfits fan, because the logo in question had the mammal skull thing going on, in colours black and white (along with the name of the business in a Misfits facetype underneath it), complete with wide toothy jaws. But the eyes...one eye was an X, just like that; and the other one was open, and a tear was running down the skull-I guess. I seemed very tribal. It had no class, like bad graffiti; and it didn't do justice to the aesthetic of the Misfits. At all.

I was non-compliant; the sight of that thing was keeping me in a flutter, and I couldn't let anyone do that to themselves. It's business suicide. And to be fair, the place was never packed, so, I was convinced I would do something about it. For my and their sake.

So, I enter the bar, late one afternoon. I ask the cashier where could I find the beast-!-responsible for my worries. Not exactly like that, but she got it; she directed me towards an office, and I was told to ask for Leo, the Animal Resources Manager.

I'm left alone at the A.R.M. ajar door, and I confidently step inside.

The room was lighted by white, neon tubes, and the walls were light blue, which felt very hospital-like to me. It contrasted very roughly the dark, dimly lighted by yellow lightbulbs ambient of the place's indoors. I now think, "This guy must not understand anything about combinations, or he simply does not care".

Leo was a sturdy, spectacle-wearing zebra who had a desk with a laptop on top, and I must say his desk was somewhat organised. He even collected pencils and pens on a pencil holder.

Well, I got my hopes up: this Leo here might be a reasonable man, I thought, and not another fool that pretends to be one.

Anyway, I come in, no knocking, no asking, and he's standing up behind his desk, with envelopes in one hoof and a pen taped to the other.

"Hey." I say.

He looks down, but doesn't find anyone. My senses indicate I startled him.

"Over here."

I take several steps back from his worktable and he gets to see me: I notice he directs his gaze at me, then at my ears, then at me -me being my face-.

I speak first:

"I came asking if someone knew the animal who made this place's logo, and I was brought here to see Leo from Animal Resources Management." I deal with him as politely as it gets with me.

He says:

"I'm Leo, head of A.R. Management and owner of Bonifacio's Primitive Men's Cave." (Heh, now I remembered the bar's name.) He lays down his envelopes and goes: "Why are you interested in my place's logo?"

"I just wanta know who made it. You know 'im? Her?"

"Yes, I know him. I did it."

He comes closer from his side of the desk, and his gaze suddenly becomes confrontative. I'm not intimidated, yet I choose my words carefully:

"Look, I've been walking 'round this roads for a while, and every time I pass by, I see it; and I've examinated it closely. It's that your logo..."

And I hesitate, because the difficult part is right around the corner. Besides, he makes it even more complicated as he raises his chin and his brows, awaiting for an -amusing- excuse for me to be wasting his time. I'm sure he was thinking that: his eyes told me he wasn't an easily pleased motherfucker. Ooh! So challenging! So authoritary! Ugh.

"...it fucking sucks, okay?"

He keeps sticking up his nose even further, and I speed my speech up:

"So...I made you a new one."

I take out a folded paper sheet, and he lowers his head, as he quits embarrassing himself with his bullshit superiority. He's confounded; he couldn't believe his sight, and I handed it to him. I give him my piece of paper. He unfolds it and takes a look. He looks skeptical.

"You don't want it; I leave and move on. You like it, you pay me." I declare firmly. Then, I give him some...information:

"Your image does not draw clients in, Leo. This is a bar! Citizens are supposed to feel motivated to come here! Trust me, it can make a difference for your business if your image is more attractive."

"Why do you care?"

"Why don't YOU care?" I remark. "Hiring someone to do the job you couldn't is not hard. Creating a logo is an easy task, and you fucked it up. Some help in that department could do lots of good for you. I have never heard anyone claiming 'Oh, Bonifacio's is always my choice. I'm always having a blast at Bonifacio's.' So if you're not going to stand out for your service, at the very least have the decency of making your logo the most noteworthy part of your bar. Even if it's the only thing you can get right about managing this place."

The next moment, I don't remember so clearly. I just remember Leo got (naturally) very offended because of my comments, and in retrospect, it was bound to be that way. If something I recall vividly, it's that he rejected my logo proposition, but he never gave my sheet back.

And that's it. That's exactly the anecdote I told Judy the night I first gave her and Nick a caritative ride, for 15 bucks. And boy, was that day the one in which my story begins.

If you will, take a seat. Get a glass of water. Maybe get a sammich. 'Cause this is going to be a long one.

* * *

On a cool, windy Thursday night on Downtown, officers Hopps and Wilde had exited the ginormous ZPDepartment, ready to part ways using the public transport (which Zootopia offered a lot of, so it was everything they needed).

A change of plans took place as they spotted a familiar looking van sloppily passing by.

"Wanna catch it?" Wilde looked at his companion.

"Sure."

"Hey, Finnick!"

...

The van stopped. The driver rolled the shields down and gasped, as the fox and rabbit had approached to his vehicle faster than what he would have calculated. Wilde spoke:

"You've got anyone else in there?"

"No. Why?"

"Where are you going?"

"South."

"Would you give us a lift?"

"I knew you was going there. I can't."

"For fifteen in cash?"

"Hop in, I'm blocking the lane." Finn sounded drowsy. "Whateva, fifteen or for free."

The couple obeyed.

It was the first time Judy got to see the inside of the fennec's van. She did expect to find it messier, but it wasn't anything spectacularly unpleasant. All there was was a couple magazines on the floor-placed like matresses-, and a folder filled with job applications besides an empty plastic package of headphones on top of the passenger seats.

"Pangolin Apartments. Grand Pangolin Apartments." the bunny specified.

"I know. I know where that is." the chaffeur raised his right paw to indicate Judy she needed to calm down. She recognised it herself; she was still feeling a bit jumpy after her shift of the day had come to an end. That remaining energy, she'd get rid of it by tapping her foot forcibly in silence.

The van started, and to the Pangolin Apartments it went.

...

 **"And that's it."**

"Wow. So that has to do with all those job applications?"

"It does." Nick interceded "Finnick is currently working as a muralist, right?"

"We paintin' a private wall, yeah. And I'm switchin' jobs all the time."

Judds was definetly take by surprise by that fact.

"Thing is Nick's always been in disadvantage at findin' an occupation. Guess my kind is not that common or sumpin', but I'd usually get shots whenever I applied for sumpin', unlike him. And I left that life on hold when I teamed up with 'im."

"All the better when one's the boss, isn't it?" Nick raised a paw dramatically and exchanged looks with the female cop. "Also when your curriculum is bigger than yourself."

Finnick pretended he didn't hear that, but Nick insisted he opened up:

"And you play the piano, don't ya, Finn? Could you play something for us sometime?"

"He does?" Judy asked. Finn used her interruption as an opportunity to change the subject matter and instead told her:

"Nick plays the cello."

"Really?" the bunny turned to the red guy in question.

"I was teeny tiny when I did."

"You still have it?"

"I auctioned it when I was thirteen on Pirate B-uh-on eBay! Besides, I would have outgrown it by now. You can't play like that."

"How did you..." Judy began, but Nick cut her off putting a gentle claw on her lips.

"Shhhhhh...let Finnick do the talking."

...

The radio was turned on, but at the lowest volume possible. Yet, the three animals' enhanced hearing let them be informed of the songs being played at the moment.

Nick's jaw dropped, and his ears raised, stiffened.

"Finnick! Turn that volume up for your favorite song!"

The fennec twisted the transistor on his radio device, and the sound came out the speakers on a louder frequency:

" _C#...D...E...F#...F# E D C#; C# C# C# D E, C# C# C# D E, E E E F# G# A, dun dun dun dun..._

 _I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind..._ "

"Egh." Judy went.

"What 'Egh'?" his fox companion protested her articulate interpolation.

"My parents used to say The Qure were what freaks listened to in the Eighties." she explained as she smirked subtlely.

Nicholas laughed heartily, and to an extent because he then deduced she agreed with them.

"Well, well. Won't you look at that, Finnick...The Qure is for freaks."

"They are the fully erected dick!" Finnick exclaimed. "How come you bunnies so oblivious to some truths?"

"Respect, Finni. Respect." Nick said, sharing a gaze with Judy. She almost inaudibly asked him if Boys Don't Cry was the fennec's favorite song; Nick denied it with a shake of the head. Then he insisted that his bud liked the band.

"I'd rather have ya here when I'm deejaying, Judy, than anywhere where Nick has the chance to play his normie music."

"Normie music! Ear Drummaz put stuff out that has a message." Nick protested once again. "Like, advocating for equality."

Judy felt sparked by interest.

"What are you talking about?"

"You shouldn't discriminate, you should have no type. And if bad bitches is what you like, you are making the world a better place."

Judy could not see Finnick rolling his eyes in the driver's seat, but he heard him grunt in response to Nick's speech.

"He doesn't even like them garbage normies." Finnick directed some words at the bunny. "He just plays them around me to get me grumpin'."

"Oh." Judy dedicated an inculpatory look to Nick, who blinked back at her several times.

"So," he said "you don't like The Qure?"

"Egh, not really."

"C'mon, Judy. Come join the Tasty Side." Finnick invited.

For the first time in the entire jaunt, she felt somewehat awkward.

"Okay..."

...

"So, Judy, what are you about, besides the police?"

"Farming. But that's natural, isn't it? I have an extense knowlegde on the subject."

Nick just looked at her and smirked. Finnick did not respond.

"I'm also into graphic novels...movies..."

"Okay." the fennec opened his mouth "...and you like good cinema or junk cinema?"

She thought about her answer carefully.

"Both." she assured, chuckling.

That made Finnick smile.

"Good. That's very good." he snickered.

"Oh, last stoplight!"

...

Subsequently, Hopps was dropped off outside the Pangolin building, and Finnick had to wait for the pair of officers to let go of one another.

"See ya tomorrow, eh, Carrots? Take care!"

"HU-RRY-UP!" Finnick banged impatiently on his van's left front door.

The red fox waved his bunny goodbye one last time, before jumping on the vehicle, followed by his tiny friend. The former took over the wheel seat, which prompted the fennec to convince him to do otherwise using menacing eyes.

"Watchu doin'? Move."

Nick hesitated just to fuck with his pal, but obeyed nevertheless and became the co-pilot.

"Her ride wasn't worth the fifteen dollas, but fo' yours you will pay!"

"Sure, sure. You may have a little 'courtesy tip'" the fox extended him a paw with the green goods (along some additional numbers). The other guy did not snatch them away, but rather just took them from him firmly and quietly.

Nick felt in the clouds that night but, from up there, it was evident Finnick's spirits were dragging on the ground.

"Life's treating you good, huh?"

"Absolutely, uh-huh."

"You enjoyin' being a cop."

"Better than I ever even knew, it is."

And they both muted themselves.

Nick pulled out his phone and plugged in the AUX cord.

" ** _Unlock, the swag; the swag, unlocked. Unlock, the swag; the swag, unlocked_**..."

"Nick..." Finnick paused to gasp for air "What is that?"

"I don't know..."

"That's the EarDrummaz again, isn't it, Nick?"

"Perhaps..." the fox kept evading Finnick's penetrating eyes as he refrained some laughter.

"You vowed not to play that shit in my truck again!" the fennec barked at his passenger, who took evasive action by pushing himself against the door for safety. Who knew his plan would be effective.

"I just tried to 'turn up' here. You clearly need some."

"No, I'm fine. Just turn that off!" the driver ordered bitterly.

"Is anything happening, big guy?"

"Mind y'own business."

"Then, why don't you play something? Some hip to the hops? Your slick-ass, gangsta-ass raps?"

Finnick did not reply, which told the red fox he was not positive about those remarks describing his music of preference.

"Why not some of your metal?" Nick asked, sounding more challenging.

The fennec sighed.

"I hate it when you bring up your bullshit, Nick. A decade and a half avoiding local security on the streets cautiously, and now you want me to consciously go around like a madman, waking up whoever the fuck might be asleep with my metal? To blow my cover and have the law kno-ya know what? Eat a churro, Nick."

That shushed Nicholas for a while, but even that showcased that Finnick had some issues. He was going to find out:

"Man, what's with you?"

"Why, me? What's with ya?"

"You're not a boiling water pot like usual. You seem tired."

The tiny predator's answer began with another sigh:

"Once you get off my space, I will be resting finally. It will go away like nothing. For now, I just need taAARGH!-We're running outta gas!" it was abnormal of Finnick to have freaked out in front of Nick. Neither of them was expecting that


	3. Hopps Intro (Fangsy)

At nine in the afternoon, Judy Hopps normally got ready to go to sleep. That night, a long time friend of hers had called her phone via Skype for a video-chat. She didn't turn her camera on, but Judy did. They had been conversating for half an hour. There wasn't much noise from outside her window to disturb their peace, so everything was going absolutely perfect.

"Gina, you can't bid something on Pirate Bay, right?"

"No...Pirate Bay is for downloading stuff, because it works on BitTorrent currency. I think. Videogames and movies, that's what you can find. Why?"

"Something about Nick...I'll find out some other time."

"Nick? Oooh, I'm still missing him! He was so much fun! And do you think he'll come again?"

"If he wants to and has the chance to."

"Or maybe you can convince him. You're Eighth Level friends, out of, like, Ten."

Judy smiled, incredulous. That couldn't be the case. Nick and her went often on traffic duty together, being on the same range. They would taunt each other every once in a while for laughs, and they would exchange one or two compliments. They got to solve the case Zootopia's security and order depended on. In the aforementioned case, she learned from him, and about him. He learned from her, and about her. They had been seeing each other everyday for four months now, and in March, she took him to her homeland on their Spring break. He had met a good deal of her family on that occasion. They had encountered casually thrice out of duty. That night, she had ridden Finnick's van, him at her side.

"We're pretty close because we are the department's first fox and first bunny. Sometimes we don't get a lot of conversation out of other colleagues. Even Nick, who amuses them the most."

Yet, she barely told him anything about her, or vice versa, nor did she ask him for advice when she needed it; she resorted to other animals for that. What kind of friends would they be without some intimacy? Gina was one of those 'Eighth Level' friends, but Nick, he would be higher...hovering over the nine, under the ten. And for extremely different reasons.

"He's got a body for them wack clothes." Gina suddenly coughed, but quickly recovered. "I wish I could be of them animals of weird colours."

Judy yawned.

"Weird?"

"Exotic, Judy. The kind that could pull off shiny, loud attires. You are grey, I am grey. We must wear more lowkey colours to look good. He's orange. And I noticed he's healthy and clean, 'cause that fur was reflectin' all the goddamn light of the Sun! Damn! And those animals that are white and black, they lucky too, 'cause white and black both go with everything. Zebras, for example. Like, The White Striped? They wore white and red...Looked so fine. And black too..."

"You're referring to what he was wearing that Saturday?" Judy finally found a moment to step in again, since Gina's mouth was on the run.

Now, that outfit summoned some vivid, negative memories out of that day Nick visited Bunnyborrows.

As much as he had been despective towards the land when he first bumped into Judy, the fox had agreed to be taken out by Judy to her home, near her farm.

What he had chosen to wear, she knew wouldn't cause the best impression to her parents, the main of the mammals she wanted to introduce him to.

...

There she spot him, at the train station. They had planned the meet up with three days of anticipation. A Saturday. She had chosen a Cosmic Latte T-shirt with no patterns and denim pants. But him...

"Woah." the bunny looked away from the vulpine, covering her face without touching it.

"What kind of greeting is that?" Nick raised his paws at the height of his shoulders.

"What's...with that?"

Nick looked down at his shirt and tie.

This one did not have a design, so it wouldn't qualify as a Hawaiian. There was one predominant colour: midnight blue, with a little bit of green mixed in. It looked as if all the colours that ever existed were dripping away from the center of the shirt. And not like an organised rainbow; plenty of the colours stained and covered others. Not to mention the agressive brightness of the shirt: it seemed as if it had been painted on with fluorescent, industrial paint for walls.

And the tie was the same.

The most intriguing part of the ensemble was that the colour stains revealed the shape of a koala skull. The tie, when in place, helped to create the illusion.

"It's a Steven Hirst original." Nick explained, looking excited. "Some store is selling these for a limited time, and they're giving Hot Topic a run for their money."

"It hurts my eyes to look at what you've done to yourself."

"Someone took pills to act like me today."

"Is that really what you spend your money on, now that you earn it correctly? Didn't you say you would buy a car?"

"Of course, but this is a more immediate investment."

...

But that was the only downside to that weekend experience. There were more memories, and many of which she held dear, like when Nick granted three of her brothers a game of Xbox FIFA. Not that he knew how to play.

"Why is my name ' P. Ness '?"

"You can change usernames, but not now. Play 'start'!" her brothers would tell him.

Judy had to give some time to two dozens of other siblings in the meantime. She had witnessed some of the fun herself, such as:

"'Nespee'? Why 'Nespee'? ...Oh..."

She especially found enjoyable that instance she didn't see happen, but was told by Nick how it went down after the gaming matches:

"They called me and my family, all of their generations, been and to be, a bunch of sad noobs."

He also pointed out he considered it very irreverent of the youngest kid to 1v1 him and use the goalie to dribble the ball across the entire field and score.

"Is that even fair play in soccer?" Nick would complain every now and then.

...

"You, what's going on in my head?" Pronk's nasal voice broke through the wall behind Judy's desk.

"Whatever it is, you were born with it." Bucky replied, nonchalant.

"Stupid-I meant what is caught in my horns! Idiot! Is it silk? I've got a damn cobweb tangled here."

"It's cotton, and it's from your shirt! Quit it."

"Just speak more quietly" Judy ordered Gina. "I don't wanna text."

"No, me neither, girl. But it's because of your neighbors? It's really them? Those are really them?"

"Shhhh, yes." Judy let her smartphone fall flat on her desktop as she scanned its surface, hoping to find her earbuds.

"And do you talk to them? How did you find out they were a couple?"

Judy crinkled her nose. That was the sort of question she didn't want her asking before having plugged in the earbuds. Now the antelopes were aware she was about to spill something about them, and they wouldn't hesitate to throw in some snide comments.

She took a quiet, deep breath, her ears paying attention on any noise that came from the other side of her wall.

"Sometime…wait a seco-yes! Hold on…" her earbuds were inside a drawer. In they went. No more worrying about Gina's mouth. Although she still wasn't all that safe; ever since the remark about silk and cotton, her neighbors had grown silent.

Cheese and crackers.

They were waiting for her to talk.

And Gina was, as well.

No pressure. Sure.

Not now, please, Judy thought.

"Sometime two months ago, I heard Bucky saying 'Hon, have you seen the keys?" and I was like: 'Hon?' And well, I found out later that they share their last name. But each of their surnames was mashed into one."

"Okay, then, but how?"

"Whaddaya mean, how? That wall is this thin," Judy held close her index fingerclaw and thumb, as if there was a wafer in between "and they don't talk. They yell."

"ARGH!"

Judy's heart skipped not one, but three beats when she heard Bucky holler. She also heard how the kudu and oryx laughed behind her wafer wall.

"There's not a way you can't know everything that happens over there." she insisted. At least the convo about the antelopes had come to an end by that point. That's what she would have wanted.

"I'm slightly jealous that you get to live next to a homosexual couple." Gina let out in honesty. "That's so cool!"

Judy raised her brows and rolled her eyes at all directions.

All right, she went on her head. Whatever.

But a mischievous grin slowly curled upon her face, as she realised what she could say, now that Gina had brought that up.

"You know what would be even cooler? Having for neighbors a homosexual couple that was educated, respectful...mmm...Likeable."

"HEY…"

Brace yourself, Judy-here they come, she thought.

"Heeeey...Heeeeeey..." the Oryx-Antlersons choired.

"Uncalled for!" Bucky said.

But they also knew. Wafer wall allowed them to know she was holding back from chuckling. They knew why she did that.

"C'mon, Flopsy, we're a delight!" Pronk kept the thing going.

"So...you like each other or not?" Gina asked her friend, who had been totally won over by laughter.

"Awww, these guys kill me." Judy said.

* * *

"Pronk."

"Yuh?"

"What is the most awkward thing that has happened to you recently?"

"Uh...Why?"

"How about spending an evening with five badgers, polishing the pottery they ordered and teaching them how to use a crepe maker while they all look at you?"

"Why would that really be?"

"Awkward?"

Pronk snorted. The lights in their room were off, but if they weren't, the oryx would have squinted his eyes at Bucky, in demand for an explanation. The kudu gave in:

"They were all the size of Flopsy, but slightly taller. And they were silent all the time."

They both turned heads as they had percieved a sound from one of their walls.

"Is she awake?"

"I don't think. So, they were silent. What happened? Didn't you try to begin any chit-chat?"

"Like, why?"

"To break the tension. So it wouldn't be—"

"I was the only one doing the talking!"

"Buck...like you just—"

"Told them what I had to! I asked them if they understood everything, and they said they did."

"You can help yourself make your customer service not awkward if you just talk with customers. Not to them, but with them."

"That's not in the regulations."

"Bucky, if you shy away from a lot of stuff, and let yourself get intimidated by tiny badgers, what makes you think you can conquer that vast parameter?"

"Okay, I don't know about you, but I'm sleeping. So shut up."

"You can just practise with me, for the next time you get to do it again."

Bucky just yawned. Pronk insisted:

"Intimidated man."

"Shut up."

"It's okay for today. I'm sure you did good, so let's leave it at that. No pressure. S'not like they were that Wasps group."

"You're just now fucking with me."

"Eh?"

"When I was told at work that some badger with a Swedish name had ordered pottery because he had just moved, I thought 'Ah, fuck this.'"

Pronk let out a laugh in amazement that he immediately muffled.

"I was that lucky Bucky that got to deliver their garbage."

"That's...woah...that's—"

"Shut up."

"No...You shut up!" Pronk snickered afterwards.

"You studied electricity physics and you don't how to use the word 'parameter' correctly."

"Goodnight, you..."

"Rest."


	4. Zootopia At Large I

"I shouldn't have done this." Finnick attempted to say under his breath, but ended up saying out loud.  
"We're not that far."  
"We are far!"  
"Not from the nearest gas station." Nick raised his voice, but kept his calm straight.  
"I'm gunna run outta gas in the middle of the street!"  
"Tone it down!" Nick's face frowned.  
"But right now!" Finnick spat at him nervously. The needle on the tank dial danced over the EMPTY symbol, which Nick noticed, but it didn't quite land on it, yet.  
"Not yet!" the cop insisted, and then he forced his words to come out as fast, but clear, as animally possible:  
"That gas station is in this boulevard, and without traffic, we're there in-"  
"It's still traffic time!" the driver snorted. Nick hated that he had done that.  
"...we're there in fifteen minutes." the fox emitted a sound of disapproval that Finnick heard as 'hrrsh'.

Finnick could drive clear-headed and tolerate the slugginesh of traffic on the way to the gas station until the van started ticking.

He sank on the books on top of his seat.

"We couldn't make it. Fucking..." he sighed.

"We're two cars away."

"But we're still in this stoplight, and it's now ticking!" the fennec ran his paw across his head; he seized a part of his shirt and began squeezing it. "You hear it! We were close, but now we're not low. We're running on nothing!" he stretched the last word.

"It's just some meters away." Nick peeked at the stoplight they stood before.

Change to green, change to green. Please, change to green.

"You see if the light's on green?"

Nick felt snapped out of it when the stoplight changed from red to green. "YES!"

 **FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!**

Finnick honked at the cars in front of the van. The red fox jumped on his seat.

"Holy sh-eddar, Finnick! Why was that?"

But the cars ahead went away with no hesitation, and Finnick almost rocketed the empty van to the gas station.

...

The driver's paws met his forehead.

"Now that I think about it, I don't have enough spare change." he told the police officer. Before both said anything else, Finnick rolled his window and a female serval greeted him.

"Welcome. How much is it going to be?" she asked.

"Hello. Would ya give us a sec, please?" Finnick said, and he turned to his companion:

"I have like...twenty dollars." he took out his wallet and counted coins at last. "Twenty-six and sumpin'." he told the serval.

"Litres?"

"Double that." Nick ordered, exchanging looks with the employee.

"What?" Finnick barked.

"The fifteen dollars I gave you. They will complete fourty...fourty-one litres, and that's e...leven gallons."

"So, how much is it going to be?" she repeated.

"Eleven gallons." Nicholas declared.

Finnick was befuddled. He tried not to be obvious about it.

...

The serval left them alone.

Nick was the first to speak:

"Why didn't you ask for an..."

"An invoice?"

"Uh-huh."

"The government ain't giving subsides for electricity bills anymore. Elliot will need more money from now on, s-so I rather..." Finnick paused to gulp saliva "Sorry. I rather keep my credit card safe from shit I can pay wi' change."

Nick nodded and muttered an 'All right'.

"That really helps, what you did." said the fennec. "It's more than enough to get where you live and back. So, th-"

"Actually, I'm going to leave you here. I'll take some transport, so you don't have to spend time on that awake, and you can rest." the fox said with a halfway lidded gaze on his face.

Finnick squinted his eyes in disbelief. Nick smiled slightly.

"You're way too kind, Nick."

Nick's smile widened, and he hopped from the van. The fennec called his name so he wouldn't leave without having heard something:

"It was very helpful—that you were here. That gesture was...just helpful. Okay? Although it wasn't necessary...Nah, I really needed it. So thanks."

Nick closed the door and waved the fennec farewell; the latter yelled **'Ciao!'** at him as he got lost in the streets.

...

When Finnick focused his sight on the front shield of the van, he realised the serval was cleaning it.

"No! No, no, n—rrgh!"


	5. Fangsy I Hold On I

Waldemar had chosen one of the two rooms in the lower storey as his. Vidar had taken the other room on the same level. Aron had one for himself on the upper level, and on the remaining one, there were Rikard and Roland to share.

The night before he had slept in the floor, with the extra clothes he packed for pillows.

The drummer walked out of his room at 6:40 a.m. , shirtless and in the pants he slept with. His eyes were struck by a light in the living room; Roland was already at the table, clothed in a glossy pink tank top and black sweatpants, eating.

"Good morning, mum." the guitarist greeted him.

Waldemar smiled.

"Today is the big day."

"It is, but we said we were going to the gym today, and if we're there like...now, we go out at nine, or such, and we have two hours to do our things. Then, we're gunna be busy all fucking day, so you might as well wake yourself up more with this..." Roland handed out a rice cake with sunflower butter on top to Walder.

The drummer sat down and accepted it.

"Did you shower?" he asked Roland.

The latter just looked back at him in silence.

"The gym..." he then said.

"Oh, right. Just wanted to make s..." Waldemar slurred, grabbing an apple.

"If we run," interjected the guitarist "we're there in no time. We give ourselves...what, twenty minutes?"

Walder nodded, chewing.

"Six fourty-two, twenty minutes, you eat, you dress, we're out. We're there at 7:10, or such."

And Waldemar kept chewing.

...

The European badgers entered the Hybrid Fitness steam room at 8:48. When inside, they were the only mammals. Every other male - out in the lockers.

They both rested against the same wall, wearing towels.

"This place is worth it." Roland expressed. "Not getting the VIP, though."

"I wonder what VIP lockers and showers are like."

"Really? Who cares?" Roland then sighed. "You are a beast." he added. "That TRX thing is hard."

"I want my body to endure drumming when I'm older. And thanks."

"I mean it." Roland touched Walder's abdomen with one paw and at the same time, with the other, he touched his own. Again, he sighed. He inhaled, and burped audibly.

"Don't be like that!" Waldemar whined. "I know, Roland, that your family is, like, really liberal but..."

Roland laughed at his sentence before he finished it.

"...but you get me."

Roland nodded. Next, Walder asked:

"Are you showering?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay, I won't."

"Oh. Why is that?"

"Gotta be early. I'll dry now. I'll wait for you at home."

"Whatever you want. But it's true. Gotta be prepared for today!"

Waldemar took the towel off his waist and began scrubbing his neck with it as he walked out the door - a rhinocerous opened it for him.

"I'm taking a shower, though!" Roland shouted before he went away.

* * *

Beautiful morning.

The tram had never dissapointed Nick. Always on time, always quiet, always safe. Every time he hopped on the tram, Nick thought thoroughly more and more whether he actually wanted to buy a car, and he was close to deciding not to. The tram was just more comfortable in every way—and as a police officer that only operated in traffic duty, he had the ZPD patrol to experience what does it feel to burn under the sun while stuck in traffic, hungry, tired and fed up (both as a passenger and a driver! Double prize!).

Nothing interesting happened in the tram. Nick was just excited to chat with Judy before 8 a.m.

It was 7:35. The ZPD had already opened.

He greeted politely every officer he came across, but ten minutes before eight, and still no signs of Judy.

But she made it.

That day, she was the last to enter the bullpen.

She didn't catch the fox at his usual spot, be she caught his sight near a window after he exclaimed "Carrots!", and just in seconds speed, she hopped onto his same chair.

"I didn't find you right away, but I recognised the "Call of the Wilde"."

"Heh, nice. You were late, fluff?"

"Traffic's horrible, don't 'at' me."

Nick chuckled.

I've left a good impact on her, he thought.

"You liked your ride with Finnick?"

The bunny raised her brows.

"Yes."

"What did you think of him?"

"I liked him. He seems like good fun. You two understand each other very well."

"Okay."

"And I mean very well; you seem to have your own little inside jokes, and the things you talk about with him, I don't figure you would...talk about with anyone else. That's what I felt. I felt a little in-between of you. It was kind of weird."

"All right. It's curious that you tell me that, as I've known him for nine years now, and...yes, we're kind of connected, definitely." the fox rested his chin on his paw, as he played distractedly with the fur in it. "He has my admiration. Besides those times he's helped me out with hustles, all his life he's been hard-working, non-stop...And he's really well educated. He has knowledge in almost every subject. It's crazy."

Judy's ears twitched.

"Is he older than you?" she inquired.

"Nah, he's two years younger than me."

Judy's eyes opened wide.

"But that's the thing; he has so much preparation, and all his adulthood he fought to be hired, not only because he's a fox, but because he's so small, and most places he wanted to work at preferred other animals over him. He didn't resign, unlike me, it's what I'm saying."

The bunny turned to his companion.

"Aw, Nick..."

Nick ran a paw over his head and sighed. "That got too real for a moment. And - um - guess what?"

"Yes?"

"Last night, I looked you up on Spawtify, and you popped up as your name is on Furbook. You're logged in on Spawtify with Furbook?"

"Oh, yes."

"Then I found you." Nicholas exhaled a laugh. "I knew it was you, because your profile picture is Pronk."

"Oh, yeah!" Judy laughed even more.

"About that...what the hell?" Nick shrugged.

"Well, he doesn't know about it, yet. If he ever friends me before I change it, it's gonna be hilarious."

The questions they would ask, Judy thought. The picture was a greyscale selfie Pronk took in a car's front seat, sporting mirror sunglasses. It used to be the oryx's profile picture at one point.

"So you stalk, too?" Nick grinned.

"Guilty, I know." the bunny gave his partner's arm a push.

"So I found your profile, now I know, and I can confirm I checked out one of your playlists..."

"Yeah..."

"Couldn't have you chosen any more overkilled songs?"

"You rude-bag."

"Eye of the Tiger." the fox started counting on his paw. "Don't Stop Believing, U Can't Touch This, Who Let The Dogs Out," he ran out of claws "even All Star by Smash Mouth, are you serious?"

"So?" Judy challenged him. "That's not like the 'only' stuff I listen to. What do you like?"

But then clock on the wall hit the 8:00, Bogo marched in, and the larger beasts in the bullpen started banging on the tables like heavy metal.

"Enough!"

Huh.

"Enough. All right; today, Grizzoli, you're assigned with Fangmeyer and Delgato _tbm nmbrn mchnnbnprnmnrdrn..._ and Lóbez, you wil team up with _Smrbndrpdnmrnddrms ncmnhnmchnmprnmn crhcnhmc_..."

Grizzoli wasn't normally teamed with neither Fangmeyer nor Delgato.

"Lastly: Wilde and Hopps."

Fortunately.

"Your task will be the next," he blinked and his eyes remained shut for two seconds before he added: "...and pay attention, 'cause this is going to be long."

He took three photos out of a folder in his podium; he did not show them to his officers.

"Artfest - do you know it?"

Nick's response was 'Yes, sir' while Judy's was 'I think.'

"Artfest will begin in Wednesday, and Fangsy, street artist, stencil artist, hailing from England, is part of this year's line-up."

Judy's peripheric vision detected that Nicholas gesticulated the word 'Wow'.

"According to his publicist, Vladimir Pertz Simmons, Fangsy arrived here a week ago to work on an installation he's doing at the CAM, and by last Saturday, he had painted two new stencils in the city, of which he posted images on his website."

Judy knew Bogo had already realised it, but she briefly took her eyes off of him again to confirm if Nick was really smiling. He was.

"Yesterday, Vladimir called and said both stencils were vandalised." he picked up the photos, one in each hoof, and displayed them. Judy took a close look.

The black stencils had been stained, but not deleted: one with yellow, the other with green. The paint used was very glossy, and the invasive colours were too bright for the sensible eyes.

Where is this going?, thought the bunny. Is this a case?

"And this is why he wants us to investigate - he claims that Fangsy himself found about it, that they were ruined the same day, and that the paint has a gloss and other characteristics that can be traced to a brand of paint or evidence like that, which can lead to pointing out someone guilty."

Why does he sound so bored?, Nick asked himself.

"What...huh." Bogo snorted to help himself believe what he was explaining. "What makes this important is that it happened a third time, today, to a stencil Fangsy did five years ago at the Zootopian Center of Theatre. Clawhauser got a call this morning, earlier, and we don't have photographic evidence of this new situation, but by what Vladimir says, there is a pattern, and he wants quick help to figure out if it's personal or something to worry over."

"So we g-..."

"So you'll go to the Theatre, talk to him, ask him questions, check the stencil out and report all the discoveries."


End file.
